Ash Mistry and the Savage Fortress

by Sarwat Chadda

  Mayar laughed. “The boy’s delirious, Master. Let me kill him, properly.”

  “Do it,” snapped Savage.

  Mayar’s footsteps made the entire structure tremble. Battered by the storm and rain, the bricks on the edge cracked and a few tumbled down.

  “Out…” Ash winced, his eyes aching suddenly. “… Out of my way, demon.”

  Mayar gave a throaty half-growl, half-chuckle. “Afraid, boy?” He stopped and spread his arms wide, blocking Ash from getting past him. “Good. First I’ll tear your arms off, then your legs. I’m going to eat you alive. There’ll be no coming back this time.”

  Ash couldn’t retreat; there was an army of rakshasas behind him. None had dared step on to the bridge, but there was no way they were going to let him escape.

  Bright lights flared in Ash’s eyes, sending spikes of icy pain through his sockets into the back of his head. The pain tingled down his spine and into every point of his body, pouring out of his fingertips and toes.

  He’d never felt so alive.

  Glowing points of light appeared over the demon’s body. They varied in brightness, most intense over his vital organs and along his arteries. Ash knew exactly where to strike to do the most damage.

  This was true Marma-adi, the true death touch. This was Kali’s gift to him.

  Ash’s hands curled into fists.

  Mayar stepped forward. He was five or six metres from Ash. There was no way past him, no way back. The only way was through him.

  “Jackie and I will feast on your sister. Sugar and spice, that’s what little girls are made of.” Mayar smacked his lips. “Delicious.”

  Ash bit his lip so hard that blood swelled in his mouth. He gazed back at the yellow eyes of the crocodile demon. “Stand aside, rakshasa,” said Ash.

  Mayar roared and Ash charged, arm stiff in front of him, fingers out like a spear-point, aimed at the bright, glowing centre of the rakshasa.

  He closed his eyes as he smashed into a wall of leathery skin, bone and muscle, but he didn’t stop. There was a moment when he thought he’d drown, or suffocate – he was trapped – then he surged forward and tore through a barrier of flesh to air and wind the other side.

  His eyelids were sticky, and he blinked slowly, watching the threads of blood cling to his eyelashes. He was covered in torn bits of flesh and splinters of bone.

  The gurgle made him turn. Mayar swayed, then dropped to his knees. There was a gaping hole in his torso. Torn arteries and veins poured back into the empty space.

  Ash had charged straight through him.

  Ash’s skin tingled with electricity. Strength surged through every muscle as he drew in Mayar’s death energies. He felt power crackle down to his very fingertips.

  Mayar tried to gasp, but he had no lungs now. His jaws just clicked one final time as he dropped on to his face. Jackie screamed. Savage gaped at the mess that had been Mayar with slack-jawed amazement.

  But Ravana clapped. His mouth split into a grin of razor-sharp teeth and he slammed his palms together, filling the city with the clamour of clashing metal. It sounded like armies fighting with swords and shields.

  “Very good, boy. Very good.” He waved Ash forward. “And I thought the gods were too afraid to send anyone.”

  Ash looked at Lucky, but she stared back at him, confused. There was hope there too, and fear. A terrible fear. His sister had never been afraid of him before.

  More terrifying than the monsters. Parvati had warned him this might happen if he drew on the power of Kali.

  Savage too retreated, Jackie beside him. Only Ravana stood immobile. He tilted his boulder-sized head and gazed down at Ash.

  “Which god sent you?”

  “No god. A goddess.” The rain loosened the blood and guts over Ash, and rivulets of red washed over his skin. Wherever he stepped, he left behind a trail of blood.

  “Kali, of course.” Ravana smiled and spread out his arms. He turned slowly. “What do you see, servant of Kali?”

  Ash wiped the remaining blood from his eyes. Ravana glowed, but it was the demonic heat and fire of his soul that filled the dark night. He stared hard, searching the rakshasa for those glittering spots of vulnerability. But he saw nothing. Not a single point of light to attack or exploit.

  Ravana had no weakness.

  he ground shook with each step as Ravana approached Ash.

  “You are a destroyer, like me,” said the demon king. “Serve me and we shall eat the world. I will teach you all the ways of terror and violence.”

  He couldn’t be defeated. He was Ravana, and Ash, despite the powers he had, was just a thirteen-year-old schoolboy.

  Ravana smiled. “Think hard. I make my offer only once.” He hissed, and the air flickered with flames. How could such a beautiful face have such a hideous smile?

  Ash fought for control. Ravana’s heat washed over him but he couldn’t retreat.

  “I am here to kill you,” said Ash.

  “You are a fool.” Ravana shook his head. “So be it.”

  Ravana slammed his foot and the ground exploded. Ash leaped sideways as deep crevasses tore across the square. Chunks of masonry flew like shrapnel in all directions and tiny slivers of stone sliced Ash’s skin. He catapulted himself dozens of metres, landing in a light-soled crouch. Ravana bellowed and a hurricane blast of heat swept across the ground, turning the flagstones red.

  Ash picked up a chunk of fractured stone, its edge sharp and jagged, and hurled it at Ravana. The stone exploded into dust as it shattered against the demon king’s exposed throat. It didn’t even leave a scratch.

  Ravana responded with a backhand blow that sent Ash tumbling through the air. The demon laughed as Ash hit the ground, battered and semiconscious.

  Ravana stomped over. He pressed his huge foot down on Ash’s chest, slowly increasing the pressure, crushing the life out of him.

  “Did you really think you had a chance? Against me?” said Ravana. “I, who brought terror to the gates of Heaven?” He pressed down harder. “Time to die, boy.”

  Ash felt his ribs crack. Waves of agony lashed over him, and he almost passed out. Then Ravana howled and Ash was free. The demon king stumbled backwards. Black clouds still swam across Ash’s sight, yet he glimpsed a figure on the demon king’s back.

  Parvati held on to Ravana’s shoulder, her fangs buried in his neck, pumping her venom into his bloodstream. Ravana tried to shake her off but she wouldn’t let go. There was a long ragged cut across her shoulders, splattering her back with blood, Ash could see how pale and exhausted she was, how battered and bloody, but she hung on grimly. Then Ravana slammed his open hand across her head and she flew off. Parvati slid across the broken ground and lay there, still and limp.

  Glittering golden blood flowed from the puncture wounds. Growling, Ravana darted forward and grabbed Ash by the throat. He raised him off his feet and hissed his fetid breath across the boy’s face.

  “You could not hope to defeat me, boy,” whispered Ravana. “Who should I kill first? My treacherous daughter? No, I know.” He leered at Lucky. “Your sweet sister.”

  There.

  A glowing spot had appeared on Ravana’s neck. Parvati had forced open a chink in Ravana’s golden skin with her fangs. Two small holes, little larger than pin pricks, just to the side of his jugular. The light shone weakly, but it was all he had.

  Ash stiffened his neck muscles, trying to resist the vice-like pressure crushing his throat. He focused all his remaining strength down into his hand, along his palm and into his thumb – the thumb where that tiny, deadly splinter had entered.

  “Or perhaps I should change her?” Ravana continued. “Transform her with my gift of madness? Corrupt her mind and body so death would be a release… one I will deny her. Imagine how it will hurt.”

  “What, like this?”

  Ash jabbed his thumb into the small blazing white point just beside Ravana’s windpipe. His thumb tore into the flesh like paper, and his hand was flooded with golden bloo
d.

  Ravana dropped him and stumbled back, clutching his neck. “No, no.”

  A constellation of lights burst to life over Ravana. Ash saw the points, glowing brighter every passing second along his arteries, in his joints, above his heart. The demon king was weakening.

  Ash stepped up to the swaying giant. The lights grew brightest in the spot over his heart. He saw himself reflected in the bright metal of Ravana’s skin. Covered in gore, eyes bright and grim, face gaunt, he looked like death. Their eyes met and there was a glimmer of fear in the demon king’s black gaze, perhaps for the first time in his existence.

  “No,” growled Ravana. “It’s not possible. Not without the Kali-aastra.”

  Ash drew back his fist.

  “I am the Kali-aastra.”

  His blow shattered the golden chest, and a thunderous cry burst from Ravana. Ash’s arm slid in up to his elbow. His fingers gripped the demon’s heart and he tore it out in a flood of golden blood.

  Ravana’s death bellow knocked him off his feet, creating winds like a hurricane. Ash stumbled back, heart still in his hand. He squeezed and the pulsing muscle burst.

  Ravana stumbled and swayed upright, hands covering the gaping wound in his chest and hole in his neck, trying to staunch the river of sparkling gold pouring out. The colour began to fade from his skin, turning grey and lifeless. He lowered himself to his knees and fixed his gaze on Ash. His body turned into a lifeless statue of cold dust.

  Ash drew back his fist, ready to deliver one final blow, to make the thing explode into a cloud of nothingness. But he stopped.

  The rain was forming black craters in what was left of the demon king. Thin streams of water mixed with the ash and ran off the body, leaving grooves and alleys through the new statue as they descended. The wind whipped away its outer layers in long and winding ribbons. Moment by moment, the elements broke the demon king down into a billion specks of dust and grey water that dribbled away down the cracks in the ground. Soon there was just a malformed lump of ash, like the remains of a funeral pyre.

  Ravana was dead. For ever.

  Ash’s heart swelled as he absorbed the death energies of the demon king, a thousand times greater than Mayar’s. His body seemed to expand, swell until it felt as if it would tear apart. His bones screamed in agony and his sinews and veins burnt with furious power.

  He stood there, swaying as the last tremors passed deep into his soul, becoming part of him. Then his eyes snapped open.

  Ravana and Mayar were gone, but there were yet more to kill.

  Two down, two more to go.

  Ash searched the platform and saw Savage backing away, Jackie retreating with him across the bridge. Glittering golden lights covered both of them. Ash shivered with supernatural might.

  “Ash!”

  Ash spun round at his sister’s cry. She was stumbling towards him against the howling winds, trying to cover her eyes against the sands and biting rain. He struggled to his feet and Lucky ran into his arms.

  On the edge of the city tidal waves of sand rose, battering the walls and demolishing the buildings. The central platform they were standing on tilted. The corner smashed apart and large stone slabs tumbled into the moat. The bridge bowed, then shattered. But as Ash peered through the blinding rain, he caught a glimpse of Savage barging his way through the terrified mass of demons, Jackie beside him. They’d made it over the moat and were trying to escape from the city. If he ran now he could still get them before they disappeared.

  “Ash! Come on!” Lucky screamed.

  Ash grabbed Lucky’s arm. He’d come here to save her and that was all that mattered. Except—

  “Parvati, where’s Parvati?”

  Suddenly he saw her, lying on the ground, and ran over to her. Her eyelids flickered. She saw him and winced. “What happened?” she asked.

  The ground trembled and jagged tears in the earth appeared, spewing lava. Ash lifted her up. “I’m not quite sure,” he said. “But I think I’ve just saved the world.”

  “You’re going to be pretty insufferable from now on, aren’t you?” Parvati slung her arm over his shoulder. She could barely walk, so Ash had to support her.

  “Yes. Totally.”

  They grabbed Lucky and the three of them ran to the edge of the demolished bridge. The vast central square that formed the heart of the city was crumbling around them. More huge chunks of stone cracked and shattered, falling down into the moat. Lava hissed as it reacted with the moat waters, raising up thick curtains of steam.

  There was a ten-metre-wide gap to the other side.

  “Parvati, I can’t carry you both across like this,” said Ash. The entire citadel was collapsing.

  Parvati nodded. She twisted herself and became a cobra. Ash slung her round his neck and swept his sister into his arms.

  Ash closed his eyes, directing his superhuman energies into his limbs, making his heart quicken and legs surge with more and more power. He didn’t know how much would be left, if anything, but he didn’t care. They had this one chance. Ash ran. Each step was longer and faster, and his speed increased a hundredfold as he hit the edge of the tilting square and launched himself high into the air.

  Up and up they rose, Lucky with her arms tight round his neck, eyes closed, and Parvati wound around him. As they flew over the gap, Ash glimpsed the demons crowding the alleyways and streets ahead of them, clambering over each other as they fled from the crumbling city.

  Then Ash was in the storm, the city gone. Wind and rain lashed him and he almost seemed to pause in midair, lightning bursting around him. Then he lowered his head and dived, piercing the black clouds.

  Ash slammed down into the roof of a building, shattering the flagstones under his feet and sending tremors through the house. They were at the edge of the old city. The desert lay before them, hidden in the rising sandstorm.

  He dropped Lucky as the cobra wriggled off his neck and transformed back into Parvati. Together they tumbled down the steps from the roof and into the chaos of the streets.

  Rakshasas ran in screaming terror down the narrow alleys and flooded lanes. The sky swirled with rain and sand, a sharp, corrosive mix that stung their skin and scratched their eyes. The rumble of thunder was deafening and the winds ripped down walls and scooped up bodies, carrying them up into the black sky.

  The gods had waited and now unleashed their full wrath on the city of demons.

  “That way! That way!” screamed Parvati. She pointed towards a cluster of large rocks on the outskirts of the city. They stumbled out into the desert, and after a short while all three collapsed, exhausted, among the large sandstone boulders. Parvati and Lucky squeezed themselves into a low alcove under one of the boulders, getting out of the skin-ripping sandstorm. But before he crawled in behind them, Ash looked back. A huge cloud of sand rose high over the city like a giant tornado. Lightning flashed within its vortex and the rumble deepened. Then there was a single, earsplitting roar as the earth opened up, and the city of Ravana vanished back beneath the sands.

  he ground trembled and shook loose the curtain of sand that covered Ash. He lay curled up under the edge of the boulder, his body protecting the sleeping forms of Lucky and Parvati. A loud, angry buzzing filled the air.

  Rakshasas?

  The buzzing grew louder. He turned his shoulders, shaking off more sand. A shaft of bright sunlight pierced the crack between the underside of the boulder and the wedge of hard-packed sand that had blown up against it.

  Ash rolled out of the crevice and rose to his feet.

  There was nothing but empty desert. Dust-devils whirled across the flat expanse, and snaking dunes hissed as the wind caressed them.

  All gone. The city. The rakshasas. Ravana.

  And Savage?

  Ash turned towards the buzzing. A plane rolled across the desert. The paint had been scoured clean off, so the bare metal, aluminium bright, shone with blinding intensity. He could just make out the faded image of a crown on the tail fin.

&nb
sp; The plane swivelled and came to a stop in front of him. The side passenger door shook, then opened.

  Jimmy took off his sunglasses and looked around the transformed landscape in amazement. Then he smiled at Ash. “Namaste.”

  “You came back?” asked Ash. “For us?”

  “Alas, nothing so heroic. I didn’t get five miles before the storms drove me down.” He gestured to the horizon. “Spent the night praying to every god I could think of. Want a lift back?”

  “We can’t pay you.”

  Jimmy took a big blue sapphire out of his pocket. “I think this covers a return flight,” he said. “First class.”

  “What does that mean, first class?” Ash said.

  Jimmy grinned and waved a paper bag. “The biscuits aren’t broken.”

  ow do I look?” said Ash.

  John shrugged. “Like an English.”

  A couple of days had passed and India was returning to normal. The story out of Rajasthan was confusing, contradictory. Some people were blaming the riots on religious fanatics, others on terrorists. No one seemed too sure.

  The journey back to Varanasi had taken ages. Jimmy had needed to make a stop on the way for repairs. When they’d reached the city they went straight to the Lalgur. Ujba had given them food and rest. He’d said little, but there was a calculating look in his eyes now whenever he spoke to Ash. Hakim too kept his distance. Ash wasn’t the same boy they’d known before.

  But now they were here, Ash and Lucky, Parvati and John, in the crowded reception of the Best View Hotel. Ash put his finger in his shirt collar, loosening it. How had he ever felt comfortable in clothes like these?

  He watched tourists arrive. A group of kids ran around the small courtyard and families greeted each other with hugs and garlands of flowers. All normal, day-to-day life.

  We came so close to all this ending.

  “Where is he?” Ash said.

  “It’s not quite twelve o’clock,” replied John. “You nervous?”

  Nervous? After having saved the world? Why should he be nervous?